Black and Gray Morality
by aestheticisms
Summary: These feelings were oh so wrong. -Cheren/N; Giftfic for Draca Soubrette. Slightly AU.


**a/n: **my first and most likely, last attempt at writing any kind of yaoi. *sighs* this is for my friend, **Draca Soubrette**. I still owe her a Dent/Aloe one-shot, though. *mumbles incoherences as I dive down the rabbit's hole*

Okay, yeah. This was awful, I'm so sorry Draca. DX

*weeps*

(that said, this is Cheren/N.)

-RV

* * *

black and gray morality

these feelings were oh so wrong.

He hated hiding. It was something he could live without. Sadly, in his society what he was hiding was something that…wouldn't have been accepted. He couldn't tell a soul about the nights he lurked in the alleyways, waiting for a certain glasses-wearing boy to arrive. He would take him, toy and play with his emotions, drop a kiss or two, and send him on his way.

It was like a game of cat and mouse. N was the cat. He dominated the relationship that had come out of nowhere, a drunken experience that changed his partner's life. Cheren was the mouse.

And he was arriving to N's alleyway and backstreets with darker eyes, the innocence he had once owned shattered. N never felt pity. It wasn't his fault. Cheren kept coming back for more, and N couldn't blame him. Who wouldn't want to be touched and looked at by N? His gray gaze was exotic in a world of colorful eyes, where blue and green prevailed over all.

Cheren was also an exception to that rule, with his dark charcoal eyes. N had coined them. Cheren refused to believe that charcoal was a color.

That had also happened on the same day that they had met. On that day, N met a boy-barely fifteen-who couldn't even hold a drink. Cheren had exited the party that his best friend Black was hosting to vomit outside in the alleyway.

His vomit splattered all over N's pricy green shoes. N wasn't amused and had mocked the dark-eyed teen for his lightweight self. Cheren had snapped back, while slurring his vowels, so that all his words came out like 'w-eh-ll you ahh-re nawht theh ohne to tahlk.'

He sounded stupid and N also added a snarky comment on his speech. Cheren lunged for him and missed by a large margin and ended falling on the rainwater-vomit mixed floor. The green-haired, pony-tail wearing teen laughed and marched off, leaving Cheren to merely yell incoherencies at him.

N returned the next night, after all he was the incarnation of an alley cat-couldn't stay in the sun for too long- and was surprised-a surprise that really wasn't a surprise-to see Cheren waiting for him with a maniacal glint in his dark eyes-he swore they changed from blue to black.

Cheren made a dry comment on how N was like a cat; he had nine lives and was lucky that he hadn't hit him. N ignored it and kept walking; after all, Cheren's threats were comical to the gray-eyed teen. They were entertaining notions that he would tuck away under his black and white cap and save for rainy days to ponder on.

These confrontations turned into a habit. They would meet up at the alley, throw some insults, and leave. At least, that was until N got bored of this and decided to change it up a bit. He began asking questions. Through this, he learned very little about the black-haired teen. Cheren refused to answer any question, especially the one N wanted to hear the answer to: 'do you have a girlfriend?'

So N kept pushing every button he could in the mind that belonged to the glasses-wearing teen. Until he finally made him crack.

"Yes, I have a girlfriend. Jealous?"

N shook his head 'no' and gave his companion a lazy smirk. He replied with a simple and breezy:

"Of course not, I was simply wondering if you had the hots for me."

Cheren spluttered and his cheeks flamed with a delicious pink color that N came to enjoy causing. The black-haired teen ran off and out of N's dark alley.

He didn't come back for a long time and N found himself wanting Cheren's company. He didn't _miss _him. He just wanted to tamper with his head and see how far he could delve in, how much information he could manage to extract out of him.

A game, that was all.

Cheren came back after two weeks. His black eyes-not black, more of a midnight blue- were accented with a glimmer of depression. He wore a black eye like a war scar. N couldn't help but laugh at his companion's state.

"What, got dumped by your imaginary girlfriend?" The words slid off N's tongue like ice cream on a hot Hiun City day. Sickly sweet poison.

Cheren's lips twisted into a grimace and turned his head away from the green-haired teen. Then he answered N's query with a scoff. A stretch of silence passed and Cheren finally let out the response N was waiting for.

"Her dad pretty much forbade me from ever seeing her again."

A smirk fell on N's lips. The raw emotions, they simply radiated off the black-haired teen. N found himself approaching him, crossing the distance between them. Cheren didn't suspect anything; he was lost in his own world, his dark eyes somber. N placed a hand on Cheren's shoulder, and with the other hand, tilted his head up, dark eyes meeting gray.

"N, what are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? Helping you cope." N whispered, with a sarcastic grin dancing on his lips. Cheren leaned back, suddenly hitting the wall behind him. The glasses-wearing teen swore internally, wishing he had chosen a different location, somewhere where he could have run like a bat out of hell, away from the lips that were coming closer and closer and closer…

They made contact, and Cheren felt like he was burning. Pure fire seared in each of his veins, as N held him close, their act of…rebellion, inconformity, uniting two boys that…were bored.

Nothing else, nothing less, Cheren chanted, his brain attempting to analyze every bit of information. But, none of that mattered. What mattered was the question that blared inside his head:

Why the hell was he kissing N? Wait, no. Why the hell was N kissing _him? _

When N broke away, he whipped around and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Cheren feeling like a shell, void of all emotion.

What they had just done was wrong. It was all wrong.

But…it felt so fucking right.


End file.
